


body project (it's a wonderland)

by prettylights_archivist



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-25
Updated: 2006-12-25
Packaged: 2019-06-05 14:49:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15173036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettylights_archivist/pseuds/prettylights_archivist
Summary: by zenstateEvery time it's something different.





	body project (it's a wonderland)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moosesal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moosesal/gifts).



> Note from diana, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Pretty Lights](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Pretty_lights), which closed for financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Pretty Lights collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/prettylights/profile).
> 
> The request was angsty sex, so this is pure PWP. Happy Holidays.   
> Disclaimer: no pretty actors hurt in the making of these lies

Katee gets the new script and her stomach flips. Callum is back for another episode. 

  
*

_I can't keep doing this,_ she thinks.

*

"Katee." His one word greeting is accompanied by a nod, by a smile with the barest hint of smirk, and just like that she knows it's going to happen again.

She spends the rest of the read-through in a fog and all she can manage to think about is how monumentally stupid she is.

*  
The first day of the shoot they don't share any scenes but she sees him midday at the craft table, a few minutes before she's due on set. He's sitting with Grace, legs spread in a casual sprawl, laughing at something she said. Katee tries not to look at him but _damn_ it's hard when she's had such a hard time even thinking about anything else. He glances up, catches her watching him and even from the distance she can see the intensity in his eyes.

She swallows and smiles, turns slowly back to the table to grab the bottle of water she came for and forces herself not to run. Running would create a scene and Katee can't afford a scene. She's worked hard to prevent any media rumors of her with her cast mates and the last thing she needs is for someone to realize what's been going on with Callum since the goddamned _first season_. Not to mention the fact that her dad would kill her.

For a second she thinks she's going to be able to get away, unscathed, but then she feels the heat of his hand on the small of her back and she half-turns to see him leaning in with that private little _smile_ he has.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about your ass," he drawls in a half-whisper, lips not quite brushing her hair. She can't hide the way his words make her shudder, can't stop the flood of heat when he presses against her from behind and reaches over to grab his own bottle of water.

When he steps away she looks around, sure that everyone will be staring and they'll _know_ but not a single person is looking her way.

*  
Every time it's something different.

Last time it had been her mouth . . .

_"Your fucking mouth has been driving me crazy."_

. . . and then he'd spent hours kissing her. He'd touched her everywhere, fingers and palms sliding over her skin, but not his mouth. His mouth never completely left hers. When she came he'd rested his lips on the corner as she cried out, followed her over the edge with his forehead pressed to hers and her bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Every time, something different. Hands, breasts, and then there was the one particularly memorable time it had been her voice. She'd jerked him off in the parking lot up against his truck with full-color commentary, saying things she wouldn't be able to believe if the echo of her words wasn't burned into her memory when he'd returned the favor.

Every time, she's left wondering if he'll run out of something different.  
*

Their first scene together is part of a dream sequence and there had been talk of the need for a closed set when they'd first starting writing so she's pretty happy that whatever Ron had in mind has been downgraded to clothed kissing. It will be hard enough as it is, without having to be simulating sex with him in front of other people.

He makes small talk as they set up the scene, asks about her dogs and her family and the movie she's shooting over the hiatus. To the dozens of people standing around them checking light and sound it looks completely friendly and casual but Katee knows better. She knows better because she can see the way he's looking at her, with a focus and purpose that's at odds with their conversation. More than that, she knows better because although the script calls for him to have her body pressed up against the wall with his, it does not call for his fingers to be under her shirt making little circles on the skin just above her hip.

Michael finally calls action and Katee pushes away her thoughts and says Kara's lines, cold and angry and not at all like the throaty whisper she'd use if they were Katee and Callum instead of Kara and Leoben. And when he gives his lines back he's got Leoben's sad, worshipful eyes and Katee knows _that_ isn't Callum.

Then their lines are over and Callum's mouth is on hers, open and just the right amount of wet. She can taste the residual smoke and fuck if she doesn't want a cigarette now, too. That's the thing about Callum; he's always making her want things that aren't good for her.

She knows it's wrong, and unprofessional and so amazingly _stupid_ but she leans into the kiss with more Katee than Kara, presses her mouth against his and rakes her fingers across his shoulder and down his back and tries not to moan when the hand he has on the hip away from the cameras slides down and back to graze her ass.

Michael calls cut and she pushes against Callum just enough to put a breath of air between them.

"Let's do a close-up with more eye contact. Great chemistry, guys."

"That man would have chemistry with a rock," one of the production assistants mutters to another and Katee has the irrational urge to tell her to fuck off. She takes a deep breath and reminds herself that it's a good thing that the crew doesn't see anything special about the way she and Callum act together, that they didn't see that kiss for the foreplay it actually is.

Instead of being relieved, though, she's reminded of all the ways she's nothing special when it comes to Callum fucking Rennie.

*

Katee stands under the hot water, trying to soothe her nerves and wash away the feel of Callum's hands and lips. It isn't working. Fifteen minutes under the spray, water turning cold, and her body is just as alive as it's been all day.

She shuts off the water and towels off before throwing on her robe and tying it closed. The steam that has built up in the tiny bathroom feels good and she takes her time drying her hair and doing girly things that make her feel more like herself than she usually gets to feel this close to playing Starbuck. By the time she's ready to duck out and grab some clothes, she feels marginally more relaxed and pulled together.

The feeling doesn't last.

He's sitting at her small dining table when she comes out of the bathroom, leaning back casually against the diner-style leather bench. One arm is resting on the back of the booth and the other is on the table, fingers drumming lightly against the stainless steel top. Katee watches him in silence, eyes momentarily stuck on the strumming length of his fingers. The memory of how easily those fingers play her body chases away every trace of hard-earned relaxation. She forces herself to look away, up, into his face.

There's a hint of smirk on his lips, like he knows exactly what she's thinking, and he probably does.

She hates that he always has the upper hand and she knows it's pointless to try to take it back, but she makes a half-hearted attempt anyway.

"Nice to see you making a habit of breaking into my trailer." Katee refuses to think about the _last_ time and concentrates on looking annoyed instead.

Callum tilts his head at her and she can see him holding back a grin. "You always leave the door unlocked while you shower? Anybody could walk right in."

They both know she left it open for him.

He keeps his eyes locked on hers as he slowly stands and walks the few steps to where she's standing. Katee holds his gaze, holds her breath until he's right in front of her and his hands come out to rest on her hips as he pushes her back against the wall. The contact sends her breath rushing out and she can feel her heart pick up speed, feel the flush begin to spread across her chest already.

Callum leans in and ghosts his lips over her jaw, up her cheek, and she shivers. The stubble on his face rubs against her sensitive skin and she knows she's going to be wearing the evidence for the rest of the night but she doesn't care, not when his lips touch her ear and then move back down, over jaw and throat. Not when she's already liquid and heavy with want before he's even touched her anywhere else.

"If you want me to stop, just say the word," Callum mumbles against her neck and then he unties her robe. Just like that, after days of the kind of slow burning tease that seems to be his specialty.

Katee doesn't move except for the shallow breaths she takes as he grips the sides of her robe and parts it, exposing her to the slightly chilly air of her trailer. She can feel her nipples tighten a little in response and she knows he notices too because he makes a pleased sound in his throat and brushes them with the knuckles of one hand until they stand in hard points. His other hand trails lightly across her stomach, around her waist, over the small of her back, down the crease of her backside.

She gasps and arches into him. She doesn't say no.

Callum kisses his way back to her mouth and the first touch of his lips against hers is accompanied by his fingers against her clit. His tongue invades her mouth, rolls over hers and he tastes like smoke and sex. Katee opens for him, everywhere, moans into the deep wet kisses as those long fucking fingers slip over her and into her. They crook and dance and she shudders, pulls her mouth away from his to suck in a breath as her hands scrabble up to grip his shoulders.

He grips her hard with his other hand, fingers biting into the cheek of her ass and the way he's looking at her, demanding and _wanting_. . . it makes her want to give in, give him what he wants because she wants it too. Always does.

She rides his hand, rocks and tilts her hips to keep his fingers deep and hard and _fuck_. Days of feeling his eyes on her like hands and within minutes she's already hurtling towards climax. And Callum wants it too because he's got a half-smile twisting his lips between murmurs that sound like encouragement. So she closes her eyes, bites her lip, and gives him what they both want. Her hips snap forward and his fingers move with her, _keep_ moving as she clenches her thighs and it's not enough, not enough, but it's so good and then suddenly it's enough.

Katee clenches, comes, and she barely has time to open her eyes again before Callum is moving, pushing her robe all the way off her shoulders and maneuvering her back to the small dining table. It's almost too fast, the change and the momentum and the demanding pull of his hands when she's still riding the aftershocks of her orgasm and she puts a hand on his chest to slow him down.

"Callum, wait, I. . ."

Her protest is cut off by a sharp smack on her backside. Katee gasps, eyes flying to his and there's the slightest hint of a question hidden in the challenge she sees in his face. She thinks maybe she should say no, put a stop to this now before he takes another piece of her, but the bitch of it is that she doesn't want to. And it must show on her face because he gives her the tiniest hint of a smile and smacks her with his broad, callused hand again.

This time she groans, feels the spreading, tingling warmth and tilts her hips into his, needing the contact. The denim of his jeans is rough against her but she can feel the length of his erection, pressing against his fly and it's not enough but it's good. He tightens his grip on her stinging cheek and pulls her closer, dips his head and kisses her hard enough to steal her breath. She's aching, slightly dizzy, when he pulls his mouth away.

"Now let me see that ass," Callum says with that low gritty edge that makes it impossible for her heart to slow down, even a little. She lets him spin her around, feels his broad hand land gently between her shoulder blades and push forward. She moves with it, bends at the waist and lets him guide her torso to the tabletop.

Her breasts hit the cold steel veneered surface first and she hisses, raises back up a fraction of an inch. Callum keeps his hand planted, steady, and reaches around with the other to slip between her body and the table. He cups one breast, then the other, rocks his crotch against her as he rolls her nipples between warm fingers. Katee relaxes under him and into him, and the table is still cold against her chest but when he removes his hands she doesn't flinch.

Callum steps away and she looks over her shoulder to see his eyes roaming over her body. He reaches out, trails a finger over the heat that he left with his hand and his eyes are burning into her. He cups her, runs his thumbs down the crevice, bends and nips at one cheek with his teeth. Katee moans, squirms, begs.

"Callum. . . please."

He straightens, cups her again and the look on his face is so intense that Katee has to look away. She gently bites the inside of her cheek and closes her eyes.

"Perfect, Katee." The sound of his voice is followed by the sound of him shedding his shirt, then the metallic whisper of his zipper. She tenses and quivers when she hears the wet plastic tear of the condom wrapper and then finally, finally, he's touching her again, cock nestled where his fingers had been before.

She arches her back and rocks into him, seeking more. Her reward is a sharp exhalation, a crack in his smooth control. He puts a hand on the small of her back, pressing her down and _god_ she can't help but give him whatever he wants. She'll give him this and she'd give him more, too, if he ever seemed the slightest bit interested in her beyond the sex. When he's gone, when there is distance and silence between them, she hates him for it. Hates herself too.

"Don't move."

But right now she wants him inside her so she holds as still as she can as he nudges her thighs further apart and then thrusts into her with one smooth motion. She holds her breath and he whispers her name and _fuck_ it feels good. Then his hands are at her hips and he's holding her steady as he moves, pulling almost all of the way out before pushing back and she's not holding her breath anymore. Katee fights the urge to push back into his thrusts, has to fight harder when he starts telling her how she looks in a string of words that have her back on the edge in a few short minutes.

She needs more and she gives up, pushes back with his next thrust and her hiss of pleasure mixes with his.

"Touch yourself," Callum commands and there's something in the tight strain of his voice that sends a surge of satisfaction through her. She can't see him, not really, but she can hear that he's close to losing control and it's her, all her. She moves her hand, wiggles it under her until she can reach her clit. It's uncomfortable, the edge of the table biting into her forearm even after he's pulled her hips back and she's raised her chest to given herself more room. But the pain isn't enough to drive away the pleasure, not even close to enough, and as her fingers slip through her wetness and over her clit in a steady, well-practiced dance, she whimpers and he groans.

"Wanna feel you come, _Katee_."

Her name sounds like _baby_ , hissed from his lips, and her fingers stutter, rhythm lost but it doesn't matter because she's already there. She gives up the movement and just presses, fingers heavy on her clit and _god_ it's just right, the fullness of his cock inside her and the friction against her and even the body-warmed steel beneath her. Katee loses herself and cries out once as she clenches around him, something that's between a moan and his name and then he's coming too, hands clenched on her hips and thumbs digging into her ass hard enough that she'll have bruises.

Eventually his grip on her hips relaxes and his hands smooth up her sides as his body follows. She trembles at the continued contact on her sensitive skin. Callum's forearms come down on the table to frame her face and his chest presses into her back, presses her slightly into the table even though he's supporting most of his own weight. He shifts and nuzzles his face into her neck, brushes up with his nose until his lips close briefly over her earlobe.

"So good," Callum mumbles into her ear, rough and sleepy with his release.

Katee can't stop trembling.

*  
 _I can't keep doing this,_ she thinks.

*

The next time it's her stomach.

 

 

-End


End file.
